Dear Sisters,
By Brittany Rose
It's been an exciting time since I wrote you last. The wedding
was beautiful, and the honeymoon even more so. I was in total
'boy' mode, as I had promised my bride, and we had a great time.
Then once the new year started, Brittany came back out. I performed
a couple of times and then an opportunity presented itself for
the next phase in my life as Brittany, and February turned out
to be my most fun month yet!
For my birthday I went to Studio Lites, an outstanding transformation
and-everything-else salon in Denver to get a new wig. I already
have a couple, but none that I was satisfied with as far as blending
in is concerned. Chris helped me pick one that is absolutely
perfect! It's a shoulder length ash blonde that I fell in love
with immediately! And it looks extremely natural on me.
Now, up to this point my trips out and about have been very safe.
Halloween, gay bars to perform, etc. with only the occasional
trip into the mainstream - eating late at night at Denny's, once
going to a Spaghetti Factory, and the got-read-by-everybody dash
into the Renaissance Festival. With my new wig, I was ready when
the perfect opportunity presented itself - The Ballet Trockadero
de Monte Carlo was coming to town!
I was pretty, at the ballet.

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For those of you who aren't familiar with this dance troupe, a
bit of background is in order. They are a world-recognized group
who does parodies of classic ballets. They are hysterically funny,
extremely talented, and, oh, yes, all male. All of the dancers
have both male and female personas, which puts everyone in a tutu
at one time or another. The object is not to pass, since guys
in drag is part of the humor, but some of them looked very good.
It was very easy after awhile to forget that they weren't females.
They did a parody of Swan Lake, and their rendition of the "Dying
Swan" and their finale to "Stars and Stripes Forever"
were superb. (The dancing was very entertaining and well done
and I am certainly not a ballet connoisseur, having dozed off
during previous ballet experiences.)
Anyway, they were performing at a local college, and I thought
it would be the ideal excuse to dress. Go in drag for a performance
in drag. My wife agreed to go along with it, and so we went.
I had a nice dress-up two-piece outfit - a gold blouse/jacket
combination with a short black skirt, which I wore with my favorite
seamed stockings and high-heeled boots. My wife wore an equally
classy dress, and we both fussed over our makeup and nails.
Let me pause here to emphasize how important that was. We made
it a special evening for both of us. Previously when we went
out, it was for me, I got all the attention, and we usually just
had enough time for her to throw something on and go. And gee!
It wasn't that much fun for her. Go figure! This time she got
equal attention and felt equally special, and she had a great
time as well. For maybe the first time, it was truly a girls'
night out, and it provided a great setting for the evening.
We got to the auditorium shortly before the show started, and
found seats. It was a lengthy but very entertaining evening,
and I didn't notice a second look from anyone. Actually, I did
get one second look. My wife, walking behind me as we left, noticed
that as I walked past the doorman, he gave me a complete once
over, from heels to hair! Afterwards we went out to eat, and
laughed and had a great time as girlfriends. As a matter of fact,
one of the main topics of conversation was my male self who we
discussed in the third person. Oh, the things she said! And
again, without any undue attention from anyone!!!
White Men Can be Women
I was so delighted with my success, that I decided to take the
next step. I would go to a Colorado Xplosion game in Denver on
a Sunday afternoon. The Xplosion is a professional woman's basketball
team. My wife doesn't care for basketball, so to make it more
challenging, I would be going on my own. Several firsts here
- public place, daytime, alone. This would be a test for my voice,
as well, which I had been working on. But I figured that since
my height (6'4") is my biggest liability, the one place I
wouldn't stand out would be at a women's basketball game. I had
been to one game earlier to scout out the possibilities and discovered
that the appropriate dress was very casual. So I looked to a
new source for the right type of clothing - my boy self's closet.
That morning after church, I did my face first - the lightest
foundation possible to still cover my beard, light makeup, and
shorter lashes. Normally, I do my face last, but I wanted to
wait till the last possible moment to be able to use the bathroom,
since I didn't feel ready for the hurdle of using a women's restroom.
I put on my Classic Curves padding, and other undergarments,
then put on baggy jeans and a green sweater. My new wig, and
silver hoop earrings (clip-ons designed to look pierced), a medallion,
and rings for accessories completed the ensemble. For shoes I
wore a feminine pair of white sneakers from Payless. (In some
parts of the country Payless actually goes up to size 13!)
The drive to Denver was uneventful, not counting the car of guys
that paced me for a couple of miles. At the stadium I went in,
found my seat and enjoyed the game. At least until I realized
one of my earrings was missing. I went to the gate, explained
my situation to the attendant, got my hand stamped, and found
the missing earring by my car. I re-entered the arena, thanked
the attendant and showed him my find, returned to my seat, and
then realized that I had carried on a conversation safely, without
even thinking about it. Before the game ended, I bought souvenirs,
and a soda without any undue attention, even chatting with the
woman at the soda counter.
Then, on the way home I experienced an unwanted first. I had to
go to the bathroom. Bad. Knowing that there had been problems
with TG's in women's bathrooms in Denver before, it was the one
place where my confidence was lacking. But I obviously couldn't
go into a men's anywhere. Then I remembered the third alternative.
I drove to the new mall south of town and went into their family
bathroom. These bathrooms are designed for families who need
to deal with children, and are for men or women to use. Although
there has been some debate whether or not these are appropriate
for us to use, in my case it was the only safe option. There
was no one else in there at the time, and each toilet/sink facility
has its own lockable door. It was perfect for me to get straightened
up and do what I had to do. Then I, of course, did a little shopping.
(Very little, since the mall was closing). A couple of looks
but was I read? I don't know. Not on the whole, I'm sure.
I Love a Parade
Emboldened by my successes so far (Did I mention I love my new
wig?), I decided to go dressed to the Carnivale parade and festival
that a nearby town was having on the Saturday afternoon before
Mardi Gras. I wore the same outfit I had worn to the game, and
went to see if I could blend into the crowds. Like before, I was
on my own. I drove over, started walking around looking at various
booths, and bumped into Carole, a lesbian friend that I used to
work with. She'd seen pictures, but this was the first time she
had met me dressed. She was taking pictures of the parade for
friends, including her partner, Susan, who had created costumes
for the parade. We walked up and down the street (small town
- small parade) and finally found her friends. She introduced
me to them, including Susan, by saying, "You know that guy
at work I told you about? This is his cousin, Brittany."
(wink, wink). We chatted a little bit, and Carole told me privately
that everyone was cool, and that one of the people in a large
monster costume was also a crossdresser. Susan seemed nice but
not overly friendly. We ran into them a couple of times, and
since they had to stick around I offered to give Carole a ride
home.
We decided to stop at a restaurant and walked in, to find another
friend, Katie, that we had worked with, there with her husband,
mother, and daughter. She made room for us, and we had lunch
with them. She showed no sign of recognition, and we, as a group,
talked about the Carnivale, and politics, and anything that came
up. I felt so great about fitting in; I was really on a high!
Then her mother and husband stepped out and I confessed who I
was. Katie said that not only did she know that I was a guy (she
just wasn't sure who), but that her husband had also asked. Oh,
well. It was fun anyway, but it was kind of a letdown to find
out that I hadn't passed nearly as well as I hoped. Got to work
on the voice!
On the Other Hand...
However, the amazing part was yet to come! First, that evening
I got online and talked to Katie to ask what I needed to work
on to be more passable. She laughed and confessed that when I
showed up with Carole, she thought I must be her partner, Susan,
whom she hadn't met. When I was introduced, she realized that
I wasn't her, and assumed I was just another female friend. It
took her several minutes before my true gender dawned on her.
Her husband hadn't been sure, but asked out of curiosity because
Katie has a lot of "different" kinds of friends. And
her mother never had any clue that I wasn't who I appeared to
be, just assuming that the young lady she was chatting with was
Carole's partner.
Then, that night I got a phone message from Carole. It turns
out that Susan and the rest of her friends at the parade all took
me to be perfectly female, completely missing the "she's
his cousin" hint. (The only one that read me was a straight
male, who Carole thought figured me out because he was checking
me out.) As a matter of fact, Susan wasn't too happy with Carole
showing up at the parade with an unknown woman. Needless to say
I was absolutely delighted, but I think I may owe her an apology.
The Moral of the Story
Okay, so what did I learn from all this? Lots of things:
- Don't forget the camera!! Can you believe I had these wonderful
experiences and didn't get a single picture????
- I'm about to give up on the whole concept of passing, simply
because you can't tell if you're successful. Not everyone who
reads you reacts by shouting, "My God, that's a man!"
My day at the Carnivale was unique in that I could find out whether
or not I passed with the people I was interacting with. I think I prefer the idea of blending. How well do I blend in?
That I can tell by comparing myself to others and their reactions.
How well do I pass? I thought I passed with Katie, and she had
read me, and I just knew that Susan knew what I was, and it turns
out that she didn't have any idea. You just can't tell whether
you're passing or not.
- Height is not a major issue. For years I ruled out ever passing,
or even dressing because I'm 6'4" and that is obviously too
tall for a woman. Now I realize that, although I will get noticed,
my height does not mean that I will automatically be read. What
really matters is, at the very least - appropriate clothing, a
natural looking wig, a decent voice, and confidence. Those things
will go a long way to blending in. I am puzzled by TG's who wear
the wrong clothes, a bad wig, use their male voice and can't understand
why they don't pass. (Or worse, those who think that they do.
"People stare because I'm so attractive as a woman."
Umm, sure, hon.)
- I'm so glad I took the next step! We all have our comfort
levels, and family situations. But I want to encourage you to
take the next step. It may be driving dressed, going to a support
group, or going to a club. I realize that I'm very lucky to be
able to dress well enough to go out in public, but that has only
come with practice, work, and the help of professionals and friends
in the community. Whatever the next step is for you, go for it.
Be safe, but go for it! You'll be ever so glad you did.
Fashionably yours,
Brittany Rose
BrittTV@aol.com
 Click to see large picture (121K) |
P.S. I just found a new, very fun book. It's called Double
Take: The Art of the Celebrity Makeover, and it's written
by Devon Cass, a well-known Cher impersonator. The book takes
several people, step-by-step to being made over as a particular
celebrity. Even though many of the models are professional impersonators,
it is still an impressive book. The opening section is a general
guideline of makeovers with lots of tips on everything from shaving
to makeup to padding. Each following chapter covers a specific
celebrity. First it gives a little background on the model and
the significant traits of the celebrity to be impersonated. Next,
we get a listing of the appropriate clothing, eyelashes, and wig
for the makeover, as well as suggested expressions, quotes, and
even songs to perform, followed by a list of alternative options.
Perhaps the most interesting part is the next where you get a
step-by-step picture guide of the makeover, but only on one side
of the face, so you can compare the madeover half to the plain
half. Finally we get pictures of the final result with an interview.
Although there are 27 celebrities represented, mostly female-to-female
or male-to-male, there are MTF makeovers for Claudette Colbert,
Barbra Streisand, Marilyn Monroe, Liza Minelli, RuPaul (does Ru
count?), Marlene Dietrich, and the author as Cher.